


Flux

by sea



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anger, Angst, Dirty Talk, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Frottage, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:59:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea/pseuds/sea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen and Trevelyan are constantly butting heads. Their on again off again relationship has them both in a bad mood that only makes it worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flux

**Author's Note:**

> DA!KINK MEME PROMPT: Trevelyan and Cullen have an on-again/off-again relationship because reasons. One of their off-again phases happens to fall right before Orelais' biggest ball (of which both Cullen and Quizzy are required to attend, of course). Trevelyan receives many appreciative looks and words from numerous unattached noble-born males, all of whom are vying for her attention since she is unescorted at the ball - Cullen doesn't take to this kindly.
> 
> \+ by now, the flux of Cullen's/Quizzy's relationship status is well established for the Inquisition members who groan at having to put up with the two's identical terrible tempers during their off-again phase.  
> \+ pissy!Cullen - especially at the ball (OMG, growly!Cullen at the ball!!)  
> \+ both are stubborn idiots that would rather break things off repeatedly than have to deal with their issues properly  
> \+ they might find the make-up sex a tad addicting, too.  
> ++++ snark and banter

She was so stubborn. Cullen nearly growled aloud at the thought of her. Leaning back in his chair, he replayed the moment over in his head, her smug smirk as she tried to argue against him, the image was burned into his brain. She was insufferable, beyond insufferable. Cullen threw the thick report in his hand across the room, letting loose a noise of frustration. Why should he be surprised? It happened all the time. A simple discussion would turn heated and when it reached the boiling point they would both just give up, almost simultaneously. 

A knock on his door interrupted Cullen’s thoughts. 

“Enter.” He called, attempting to keep his voice in a professional tone.

“Commander, we’ve got a slight…situation,” He heard Josephine’s flowery Antivan accent as she pushed open the heavy door and entered his office.

“What now?” Cullen shot back through gritted teeth, as if he needed more to deal with than the green recruits and Trevelyan’s constant, unrelenting torture.

Josephine hesitated a moment before continuing, not wanting to anger him further when he was already in such an atrocious mood. There was no doubt she already knew why he was plagued by it.

“I know you’re not fond of formal events…and I know you’re even less fond of Orlesians,” She paused to let the two topics sink in. “The Inquisition’s attendance has been requested at a formal ball being held by the Dowager Lady Mantillon. More importantly you and Lady Trevelyan have been invited by name.”

“You can’t be serious!” Cullen threw his hands up in the air. “We’re trying to prepare for a war! What is it about that that these stuffy nobles can’t seem to comprehend?”

“I’m afraid it’s the Game, Commander. We simply must play if the Inquisition is to gain even more support.” Josephine used her calmest ambassador voice, the one she reserved to appease those same stuffy arrogant nobles. It made his skin crawl to think of it, but he couldn’t take his anger out on poor Josephine. It wasn’t her doing after all.

“Fine. I’ll attend.” Cullen dropped his head and his anger, if only temporarily.

“Thank you.” Josephine bowed politely and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

As soon as she was gone Cullen’s fist came down hard on his desk, sending several loose pages floating to the ground. A whole night of watching the Maker forsaken Inquisitor being worshipped by crowds of people. Cullen was pretty sure he would be able to see the size of her ego grow. 

—

The ball came too soon. Cullen prayed it would be canceled or postponed or anything to keep him out of the tightly tailored outfit he was required to wear, his trousers clung to him and his coat felt too snug. Josephine told him the finery fit him perfectly but still he argued. _Can’t I just wear my normal armor?_ ABSOLUTELY NOT.

“Presenting Inquisitor Lady Trevelyan!” A voice shouted. Cullen looked up out of habit, his mouth dropping open at the sight before him. Josephine had gotten her into a dress for this event. It was a deep shade of royal purple that shimmered in the dim light of the ballroom. The bodice was accented by cream lace that followed along neckline at the swell of her bosom. She looked absolutely stunning. For a moment, Cullen forgot he was mad at her. He wanted to apologize, tell her how wrong he’d been, make up and spend the rest of the night together laughing and drinking and making love. But just as soon as the thoughts were formed he remembered just why he found her so irritatingly difficult.

“My, Lady Trevelyan, what a sight you are!” A unnamed noble called, taking her gloved hand and placing a lingering kiss on it. “I do hope you will save me a dance this evening?”

She smiled at him, batting her eyelashes, “Why thank you. I would save you a dance but why wait? Should we not dance now?”

Cullen rolled his eyes dramatically, making an audible snort of derision. He knew she was only trying to irritate him and she was succeeding.

“But of course, my lady.” The noble grabbed her hand and whisked her off so quickly it was as if he thought she would change her mind if given the chance.

Cullen leaned back agains the wall, draining his glass of wine in one swallow and slamming it down with a little too much force. It was only a few seconds before an elven servant appeared and replaced his empty glass with a full one. He nodded in appreciation, though he couldn’t bring himself to smile.

He watched them dance, the noble’s hands slipping a little too low on her waist, his grip a little too firm, Trevelyan leaning in to him a little too close. It looked as though they might fuck right there on the ballroom floor. Cullen felt sick.

By the time Cullen was on his third glass the dance had ended. Trevelyan had returned to the side, quickly surrounded by her ever loving admirers. And Cullen, well, he felt emboldened enough by his drink to approach her.

“Good evening, Lady Trevelyan,” He said evenly, though he knew his face betrayed him, he couldn’t do much to squash the way his brow furrowed in anger and annoyance.

“Commander,” She nodded politely, barely an acknowledgment.

“I don’t suppose you have a moment?” He asked, he knew he shouldn’t but he was ready to pick a fight.

“Not now, Commander,” His title sounded like an insult on her lips. “Perhaps you will find me later?”

“Perhaps…” Cullen said under his breath as he skulked away, returning to his table. So now he couldn’t even get enough of her attention to start a fight with her. He drained another glass of wine, his head beginning to feel a haze.

He watched her. The crowd got bigger, moved closer, they all wanted a piece of her and she was drinking it all in. That insufferable woman.

“Something troubling you, Commander?” Dorian’s voice broke his intense concentration.

“Leave me, Dorian.” He said, not wanting to play nice. It was easier to be alone than to have to act restrained.

“You _look_ troubled. Not that it isn’t a good look for you. I do so admire the way your face does that,” Dorian motioned to Cullen’s face with his hand, “Brooding thing it does. I just thought maybe you needed a brooding outlet? Someone to brood _to_?”

“I said LEAVE!” Cullen shouted, so loudly that Dorian openly flinched. It was clear he wasn’t expecting things to escalate so quickly.

“I will leave but let me say this. If only you would talk to her maybe you two could work through this instead of skirting around each other like little teenagers.” Dorian said thoughtfully, it was almost insightful for him. He didn’t wait for Cullen to respond before he was gone.

Cullen sighed, drinking down his fifth (or was it sixth, he’d lost count) glass of wine.


End file.
